


Just Forget the World

by t0bemadeofglass



Series: Mini Prompts [4]
Category: Marvel (Movies), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Married adorableness, human!AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-16
Updated: 2013-04-16
Packaged: 2017-12-08 15:26:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/762963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/t0bemadeofglass/pseuds/t0bemadeofglass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha promises her husband, Bruce, a day for whatever he wants to do when she gets back from a long business trip.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Forget the World

**Author's Note:**

> Title of the song comes from the song "Chasing Cars" by Snow Patrol, and this is part of my 50 fic challenge.   
> Hope you enjoy! It's the first fluff I've written . . . I think forever. Dang.  
> Thanks for reading!

Bruce was up practically all night waiting for her to get back, the watch on his wrist reading past two in the morning and the students dissertations in front of him beginning to blur as the seconds ticked by, counting up to minutes that seemed to fly like airplanes around his head.  She was supposed to be back at one, having caught the last red-eye out of Jackson back to New York, and there hadn’t been any delays that he’d been able to see (and his phone was programed to report them to him just in case there was.)  Once or twice his mind flashed to the idea that she was . . . that maybe Clint wasn’t just her working partner.

‘Don’t do that, Banner.  She married you, not Barton.  She’s Natasha Banner-Romanov.’  That put a smile on his face.  That damn hyphen--she’d insisted on it and it made him chuckle.  She was NBR, and he’d always called her NPR when they’d first gotten married, a running gag that never failed to make her scrunch up her face and punch him without any real force.  

That had been nearly ten years ago.

There was a soft click as the lock on his door began to slide out of place, retreating into the metal of the door as Natasha quietly let herself in.  She smiled tiredly at him as she saw him sitting at the kitchen table, and with near silent footsteps she crossed over to him after having closed and re-locked the door.

“Hey,” she murmured, tipping his head upwards to kiss him.  She tasted of vodka and coffee and the spearmint gum he knew she always chewed when she flew, terrified of the rising and falling sensation.  Funny that her job practically required it.  

“Hey,” he answered when she pulled away.  

“Been up long?”

“Not too long.”  Just since six that morning, but tomorrow was his one day off from teaching, his make up day.  He always made assignments due the day before to ensure himself at least twenty-four uninterrupted hours of grading.  His boring day, as Natasha called it whenever she managed to make it hope.  Bruce couldn’t help it; he was a sucker for peace and the predictability of grading papers.  “Have a good flight?”

She groaned from where she’d made her way into the kitchen, head currently in the fridge as she pulled out the chicken marsala he’d promised her last night when she’d called him to tell him that she got the merger she and Clint had been working so hard on.  She’d been so thrilled, both at the prospect of the bonus she was sure to get and the home-cooked meal she’d be able to enjoy.  “I hate red-eye flights.  Always reminds me of that movie we saw--what was it?”

“Red Eye?”  He chuckled.

“Yeah!  I’m always afraid a terrorist is going to tell me I have to call you and you’re going to die or something.”

“I hardly think being a professor is worth blowing up a building.”  He teased.  

“What if they were a previous student who you failed?” she asked, popping the clear container into the microwave.  The hum of the machine filled the room, followed shortly by Bruce’s quiet, good natured chuckle.  

“You could write books with that imagination.”

“Maybe I will.”  She grinned, twiddling with the fork she’d pulled out, already anticipating the meal to come.  

I’d like that. Bruce thought.  It meant she’d be home more often.  She seemed to understand what the silence said, and once more she crossed over to hug him from behind.  Her small frame felt good against his, familiar, and he felt himself sink back into it.  They stayed like that for some time, long past the beeping of the microwave to signal that Natasha’s food was done, long past they should have, but Bruce couldn’t have given a damn.  

“I’m sorry, you know that right?”  She murmured in his ear, pressing her lips to the soft skin just behind it.  He hardly suppressed a shiver, skin starved for physical contact with her.  She’d been gone for nearly three weeks, a short trip by her standards, but it was more than enough to make him crazy for her.  With a sigh he nodded his head.  

“I know.  And it’s not your fault.  It’s just your job.”  And how he hated it.  

“Mhmm,” she murmured as she pressed her forehead to the back of his head and just breathed.  It felt good, calming for the both of them, and had he not been sitting straight he might have fallen asleep.  Hell, he might anyway.  After a few minutes had passed Natasha pulled away, moving to grab her food and rejoin him at the table.  Neither said a word as Bruce continued to grade, flipping slowly through the papers and making them bleed ink with each stab of his pen as Nat ate and watched him, enthused and amused by how vigorous he was at grading.  

“You were made to be a professor, you know that?”  She asked quietly.  “You’re so thorough and smart.  And you have that brainy look, though if I had you for one of my profs I don’t know if I’d ever get a thing done.  I’d go to class every day, sure,” she grinned when he raised his eyebrows.  “But I don’t think I’d be able to concentrate on what you were saying.  I’d be too focused on whether or not you’d be up for an illicit relationship.”

He nearly snorted at that.  Wow, their dirty talk needed work.  Natasha joined him in laughing after that until the two were nearly crying from laughing so hard.  It felt good, invigorating, and within a few more minutes Nat had finished eating and Bruce had finished grading for the night.  His eyes were watering from watching the words go round and round on the pages, and it was bordering on three in the morning, dammit all.

With heavy, sleepy feet the pair made their way into the bedroom, stripping before falling to bed.  It was so much nicer to not be alone at night, Bruce thought as he wrapped his arms around Natasha’s waist, and judging by her hum of approval she felt the same way.  

“Oh, I almost forgot,” she yawned.  “I’ve got the next few days off.  So tomorrow how about we do whatever you want to do for one entire day?  God knows you deserve it.”  

In his chest his heart gave a quick lurch.  Really?  “You mean it?”

There was a grin in her voice when she answered yes, she was sure.  “I want to do whatever you want to do, Bruce.”  

He could hardly fall asleep after that, too excited as he went over the idea of what they could do.  He’d missed her so much, and there were only twenty-four hours . . . his students could wait a little longer for their papers.  

* * *

They slept in pretty late the next day, though Bruce wasn’t about to complain.  There was no such thing as time lost when he was allowed to just lay down next to Natasha, feel her breath beside him, run his hands up and down her sides and when she finally opened her eyes and smiled at him their morning kiss was about as sweet and tender as it got.

Until-- “You should probably brush your teeth.”

“Gee, thanks NPR.”

“Stop calling me that!”  She grinned and hit him with the pillow that, until two seconds ago, had been under her head.  

He grinned as he rolled out of bed, narrowing avoiding said pillow as it was thrown at him once again before he ducked into the bathroom.  After a few minutes she followed after, brushing her teeth and hogging the sink.  He’d missed that.  

“So, what’s on the agenda for the day?” she asked, brushing the red hair out of her blue eyes as she stared at him, toothbrush cocked to the side so she could talk.  He just grinned and kissed her forehead.  

“Don’t know.  Thought we might have a day in.”

“Really?”  Her surprise had him laughing at how ridiculous she sounded with a toothbrush in her mouth.  “You don’t want to go out or anything?”  

“No, not really.  I thought we might get a movie, some take out, maybe take a walk if the weather is nice enough--” it rarely was-- “But aside from that I just want a lazy day with you.  Nothing fancy, nothing exaggerated.”  He leaned over to press his lips to her forehead, pleased with the small blush that spread across her cheeks.  She rarely blushed.  

“Okay,” she said, voice quiet and surprisingly shy, before she spit out the toothpaste and washed her mouth out.

“One condition.”

“Yeah?”

“Cell phones off.”

Silence.  “Well, hell Bruce.”

“I mean it.”  Call him selfish but he didn’t want Barton interrupting their day.  

“Alright.”

* * *

Two pizzas for lunch, a “for two” Chinese dinner deal at their favorite take-out place, and four movies later Natasha was sitting on Bruce’s lap, one hand reaching behind to bury itself in his hair and the other holding his tightly.  His free arm was wrapped around her waist as he breathed her in, her head just to the side of his.  He pressed a slow kiss to her cheek and nuzzled her cheek a little.  

“I missed you,” he murmured in her ear.  

Her breath hitched. “I know.”

More silence.

“You know that I missed you too, right?”

“Of course.  I love you.”

The kiss she pressed to his lips was enough to confirm she felt the same way, and after a few more minutes of locking lips he felt that maybe they would do some sort of physical activity after all.  

 


End file.
